Please Wake Up
by Teya Yashitoda
Summary: Kyouya contracts a fatal disease and spends his remaining months hiding it from his friends and tying up loose ends. Tamaki finds out and begins a whirlwind romance that, ultimately, well be torn from his grasp. Warnings inside. Boy love/Shonen ai.
1. Part 1: Gravity

Title: Please Wake Up  
Pairing: Tamaki/Kyouya  
Disclaimer: Ouran High School Host Club does not belong to me. I make no money off of this fanfiction. I do not accept bribes for updates. ;D  
Warnings: Lots of angst. Hoo boy, _LOTS_ of angst. Boy love. Random moments of fluff. OCs. Possible OOC. Probable drama.  
Author's Notes: Hello all! -smiles and waves happily- I'm here with a brand new fandom and a brand new story. Don't worry, I'm still working on "Go the Distance" but it's on a mini-hiatus as I write this story, so sorry ZADR fans!

This entire story is dedicated to the Livejournal user lilkittyangel , both for the prompt and the high praise 8D

Chapter name is from the song "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles. I don't own _that_ song, either.

* * *

It had all happened so quickly that Kyouya was not quite sure what had happened

It had all happened so quickly that Kyouya was not quite sure what had happened at all.

One day, he was lounging on a beach chair on the shores of South America, soaking in the sun and beating away a mosquito that was annoying him particularly. The next, he was sitting in his own father's office, trying not to collapse from a weakness that had slowly taken over his bones, his muscles, flesh, mind, _heart_. And the diagnosis was even worse, especially coming from the mouth of a man whom he respected in this field (and childishly, so childishly, thought that he could cure anything.)

"Kyouya-kun, there isn't much time left. As of now, there is no cure for this particular strain." Hesitantly, a pale hand so much like his own, but bigger and older, clasped his shoulder in a tight, iron-hard grip. "I'll do everything I can, son, but… There isn't much I _can_ do, at this point." It was Ootori-san Senior's way of saying, "I'm sorry."

The verdict was given: five to seven months, depending on how Kyouya lived his life from that fateful moment, on. The first week was spent (surprisingly,) in denial. The brunette pretended that nothing was wrong, that life was continuing on the path he'd been expecting to follow all his days. He interacted with the Host Club, made plans for the future, plotted, pretended to be part of the mock-family that he had grown to (though he cringed to admit this word) _love_. All in all, he'd decided, the disease had been a shockingly real nightmare, but nothing _less_ than a nightmare. How could he, the Shadow King, have a life-threatening _disease_?

Preposterous.

The second week was spent, in his room, with a temperature over one hundred and two with a cough that made it sound as if he had lost the fondness for his lungs and was trying to hack them up. Painfully. So, in this, the third week, he decided to come to terms with his illness. He had not very long to go, after all, so why spend it all in denial? Best to spend it in relative comfort, without hurting other people too much. And it was with this thought that he began to settle hi affairs as quietly as possible.

Trouble began the very first day of his "quiet settling of affairs."

He always knew that convincing the Host Club would be the hardest to do. They would fight and tear at the few heartstrings he'd dedicated to them and practically _chain_ him, if only to keep him around longer. So he knew, walking into the room for the last time, that this would be the hardest day of his suddenly-shortened young life. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that Tamaki was going to beg and scream and yell.

It only hurt his heart more to imagine it.

* * *

"What do you _mean_, you're transferring to America?!" Tamaki roared, coming to life after having fallen from his chair. The rest of the Host Club merely stared in shock, unable to grasp what the Ootori heir was saying. Leaving? The Shadow King, leaving? Impossible. "Where? When? How?! _Why_?!" Tamaki strode over quickly, grabbing a handful of blue uniform and shaking the black-haired boy as fast as he could. "When did you decide this? Why did you not consult us first?!" Below the rage of being left out was sadness, a loneliness that said, _Why aren't you taking me with you?_

"It's a business affair, Tamaki-kun." He said as pleasantly as he could, trying to gently retract that vice-like grip from his uniform. "I'm going to a little town in the province of Michigan, something called Grand Harbor(1) or some such. I leave in a week." He let the shock of that statement settle in before he continued briskly, "I'll be travelling on the Ootori private jet, of course, and it was never my decision in the first place, Tamaki." Kyouya glasses-glinted everyone in the room. No trademark smirk accompanied the motion. "My father was very specific in his… _instructions._ I am to go to America and to stay there to take care of the Ootori business in that area."

"You aren't seriously planning on leaving, are you, Kyouya-sempai?" Haruhi asked in her blunt way, looking up with those wide, innocent brown eyes of hers. The smile disappeared from his eyes, still remaining with his mouth. It looked more like a grimace now, truth be told. But he had to keep up the pretense. If they found out the truth – well, that just couldn't happen.

"I am, and as soon as I can manage. I wouldn't want to let anyone down, of course." Kyouya replied carelessly, unaware of the frustrated, "you've got to be kidding me" looks that he received. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then it was Tamaki who broke the silence, looking like his face had become a tropical storm.

"You don't… want to let anyone down?" He said, choking on his fury. "You're letting _us_, your _friends_, down! That's BULL SHIT, Kyouya!" The blonde seemed to explode, shocking every single person standing in that room. Never before had they heard the Host King raise his voice to such epic proportions. Such a sophisticated person as Tamaki just didn't _do_ things like that.

"You can't leave us! You know better than all of us the integral part you play in the Host Club! The second you leave, we'll all fall apart. Your father doesn't _need_ you to go there, I'm sure he doesn't!" The angry expression left, leaving behind desolation, pain, confusion. "You can't _do_ this to us, Kyouya… You _can't_."

"I'm sorry, Tamaki-kun, but business is business." He knew what he was about to say would hurt them all deeply, perhaps even make them angry, but it was much better than the alternative. "This business venture has ceased to be amusing and profitable. In fact, it is quite starting to hurt the Ootori reputation. I have nothing left here but dead weight." Pushing his glasses up, he let the light glint off, so he would not have to see their shocked faces. "I am…" He smirked slightly. " 'Resigning', as of today."

"O-oh?" Tamaki said, blank puzzlement painted almost comically on his face. "But… but you ca-"

"Do not tell me, Tamaki-san, what I may or may not do." Kyouya said, his voice going several degrees colder. "It was fun for a while, but this partnership is over. I wish you and all of your respective companies well." Giving a nod to each of them in turn, he just paused to give Haruhi a small, "Be successful" before turning on his heel and striding proudly out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, his spine wilted like a flower in too-hot sunshine. Part of him wanted to cry, to weep over the loss of the only family that had ever meant something more than just _business_. He sneered, loathing the word _business_ with every diseased cell in his body. _Business_ had torn away all that had ever mattered to him, and he detested the very concept, now that he had a look outside his limited scope of the world.

A few steps away from the grand entrance to the Third Music Room, he heard those damnable doors opening again and a bubble of voices chorusing into one loud, "Kyouya!" Said brunette winced. _Damn_, he thought, turning around and putting on his "I'm an Ootori bastard and you better _damn well_ listen to what I say" face. _I thought I had them convinced!_

"Kyouya!" It was Hikaru who caught up to him first, breathing hard and looking as if he had been slapped in the face with a fish. "Kyouya-sempai, you're joking, right?"

"Yeah, you wouldn't really leave us, would you, Kyou-chan?" Hunni piped up, looking towards the dark-eyed boy's face with a kicked puppy expression. "Haru-chan thinks you were lying."

"Is this just a very bad joke, Kyouya-sempai?" Kaoru said, seeming almost pleading with that one statement. "You're coming back, right?"

"We need you here." Mori said, voice quiet compared to the rest. His gaze was the hardest to tear away from. Of them all, Kyouya knew he saw through the charade best. Perhaps only-

"Tamaki fainted, sempai." Haruhi said, looking worried despite her normal stoic mask. "He thinks that you're just pulling a prank of some sort, that he'll wake up and this will all be a very bad dream."

"Do I ever _joke?_" Kyouya demanded, getting frustrated that none of them were listening to reason and annoyed that Tamaki had taken his same conclusion about all this from him. "Do I ever _kid?_ My responsibility is with my _family_, not a group of adolescent _fools_ who contrive to beat my business, in the long run!" As they stood there in stunned silence, he added, fuming, "Whatever that idiot thinks of me is none of my concern. He was under the impression that friendship between two rival businesses was possible, but he will eventually wake up from that dream. There _is_ no such thing as friendship, only _power_ and _striving_." Huffing slightly, he added, "And you'd best understand that soon."

Without another word, he strode away from the shocked group, feeling one single, irritating tear trying to leave the corner of his eye. He let it fall.

* * *

Kyouya decided to indulge himself and walk around one last time on the Ouran campus, greeting those few who were still there. He smiled and said hello the normal patrons of the Host Club, wished a good day to partners (and rivals) of the Ootori business, and was all-around the son of a major corporation. Even now, as he stepped into the classroom he had been in not three hours ago, he felt a swift rush of depression echo through him, shivering all the way to his fingertips and toes.

This was the last time he would enter this building.

Shaking, he sat down at the closest desk, watching his fingers tremble and feeling those stupid _tears_ welling up again. _What will it be like, I wonder, to die_, he thought mindlessly, before a strange kind of panic welled up in him. Never before had he accepted the thought so readily, had imagined the possibility that he really was going to leave this world. Tearing open a strange barrier in his mind, he felt a strange wetness coursing down his cheeks.

_What will it be like to not have any friends come to the funeral?_ Continued that chain of understanding. _Will they forgive me, when they realize what was happening_? And part of him wanted that forgiveness, more than anything, right at this moment. He wanted to stride back in and pour out his heart to those people he had once considered his friends. Friends who certainly did not care what happened to him now. A fresh flood of sea water washed down his too-warm face.

Kyouya Ootori did not want to die.

But he was facing the very probably chance of it, anyways.

Burying his head beneath his arms on the desk, he finally embraced the knowledge that his time on earth was not long, and wept. How long he sat in that classroom, shoulders barely shaking and fingers trembling minutely, he was not sure. All that he could think was, _I don't want to die_.

And understood the futility of such a statement.

"Kyouya…-kun?"

_Oh no_, he thought, completely horrified. _Keep your head down, maybe he'll think you're asleep and he'll go away._

"Kyouya, wake up." The tone was so sad, like everything he had once believed in was shattered right at his feet. _And maybe it was_, Kyouya amended thoughtfully. "Please, I have to say something."

Kyouya did not lift his head, for fear of the tear tracks showing too brightly on his cheeks. _No_, he groaned internally. _Anyone but him, I could ignore, could tell them to get the hell away, but it just _had_ to be Tamaki that confronts me this way._ Hesitating for a moment, he added, _Come to think of it, that's probably why they sent him to find me. They must have seen that my car had not left school grounds yet…_

"Kyouya-kun, I know you're awake." Tamaki was trying to be brave and confident, but it just sounded shaky and weak to his ears. Much like himself. "Your breathing is too heavy for sleep…" A pause. "Kyouya?" Another pause, longer. "Fine. I'll just wait here until you decide to get up." And with that, the blonde sat down next to him and began to (very annoyingly) tap his foot against the ground.

They stayed like that for a while, the Ootori ex-heir waiting for his ex-best-friend to get fed up, impatient, and storm out. He almost hoped for this reaction, actually. But no, it seemed Tamaki had gained a strange sense of waiting when he wasn't paying attention and was settling in for the long haul, the foot tapping dwindling away. Eventually, the diminished sounds of students and teachers completely disappeared, leaving them alone in the school. Kyouya waited a little while longer, hoping that, at least, the tears would dry before he had to look up. Maybe the fading sunlight would better help his cause…

Finally, he gave in, and lifted his head, pretending that he had been asleep. A yawn accentuated this act, as well as a very-real wince from the crick in his neck. Definitely not a good position to be in. A startled gasp revealed that Tamaki had perhaps been falling asleep himself. Another deep intake of breath showed that perhaps twilight was exposing his weakness better than what he had hoped.

"Kyouya-kun?" Tamaki whispered, stunned and nothing short of extremely concerned. "Were you _crying_?" Hesitantly, he reached out a hand; as if afraid he was going to be bitten, he touched his friend's cheek gently. For a moment, everything was still. The brunette was surprised; he had been nothing but all-out _awful_ to the boy in front of him, and yet he still expressed such a deep level of intimacy and worry, as if nothing had happened between them?

Without warning, and certainly without consciously thinking about it, tears began to pour down Kyouya's face again. _This kindness, I do not deserve_.

* * *

A/N: Well, there you have it! Something depressing and angsty to make you cry before work starts ;D Or school. Or whichever. -cackles-


	2. Part 2: 100 Years

Title chapter: 100 Years, by Five For Fighting. I thought it was an ironic title chapter. Anyways, moving on to the story:

* * *

If someone had asked Tamaki a few days ago if the Shadow King had ever cried, he would have laughed in their face until his ow

If someone had asked Tamaki a few days ago if the Shadow King had ever cried, he would have laughed in their face until his _own_ tears ran down his cheeks and told them that Kyouya hadn't cried since he was _two_. And, most likely, he would have been right.

But now, now Tamaki was faced with a very distraught brunette and not quite sure how to react. Shocked? Yes. Worried? Yes. Angry? Oh, most definitely, because whoever had made his best friend cry was going _down_.

"Kyouya, what happened, why are you crying?" The Suoh heir whispered, looking downright distressed. His hands fluttered uselessly in front of the brunette, not sure what to do. The blonde was completely new to this situation, having always been the one in need of comfort. "Who made you cry?" Then an awful thought struck him. "It wasn't us, was it? Oh, Mommy, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to make you cry!" Leaning forward, he embraced the boy as well as he could.

Kyouya just cried harder, suddenly clinging as tight as he could to Tamaki. No, this was not right. Someone as strong as the Shadow King did not _cry_. This was so out of character for the brunette that the other teen was completely unaware of how he was supposed to act in this situation. So, hesitantly, he wound his arms tighter around his best friend. A sharp stab of fiery pain lanced somewhere suspiciously close to his heart. _Are you still my best friend?_ He thought, fretting inside his head like the little drummer boy on steroids.

"Idiot." Kyouya muttered, clutching fistfuls of school uniform in his hands, unable to hold onto anything else. "I'm such an idiot to have thought you would give up on me that quickly…" It went unspoken, but even Tamaki heard the silent, _I thought I knew you better than that._

"I won't ever give up on you, Kyouya." Tamaki promised fiercely, struggling to get closer to the other boy without getting into an uncomfortable position. "Not even when you give up on yourself." It was Kyouya who decided to get closer, pride be damned. Going to his knees in an unexpected movement, he wrapped his arms around Tamaki's waist and buried his head into the other teen's side. Affection, and blatant affection at that, was not high on Kyouya's list, and was actually pretty much non-existent. But something in the last three weeks had snapped inside of him, demanding care, attention, _love_.

No, he would not tell Tamaki what was wrong with him. His dignity wouldn't allow that to slip through the cracks. But he could certainly trust the blonde with his bleeding heart.

"Kyouya-kun, what's the matter?" Tamaki was cradling his best friend's head in his arms, offering comfort, kindness, a need to understand. "Truly, you can tell me, I'll… I'll listen." There was a strange sort of hesitance to that sentence, as if the Suoh heir was not sure he wanted to say them or not. _As if my words have hurt him enough already._ Kyouya thought, grimacing internally.

"I'm fine, Tamaki-kun, thank you." Kyouya said, standing up and re-gathering his pride like a cloak. "I apologize for falling apart like that. It wasn't very fair to you, after what I just said." But there was something else in his eyes; not only "I'm sorry" but also "thank you" and a bone-deep sadness. As if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and was unaware of how to transfer some of his burden. Tamaki saw this in his expression and understood that perhaps, there was more to all of this than he had once thought. The Suoh heir acted like he wasn't very bright, and perhaps sometimes, when it came to deceit and dealing with malicious people, he was completely unaware. But his best friend was like stained glass, easy to see through with a trained eye.

"No, Kyouya-kun, don't be sorry." Tamaki murmured, standing up as well and grabbing the brunette's hand before the other could turn away. "If you should be sorry for anything, it's that you're leaving us in such a state." A little twitch of his eye showed that he was trying not to frown about something, but he hurriedly made the emotion blank from his expression, as if not wanting to show it to Kyouya. But if the Ootori was like stained glass, then Tamaki was like an open window on a bright summer's day. Sometimes, Kyouya wondered how far the blonde would get in this life of business and dull meetings; if he was bored, his client's would _definitely_ know it.

"Tamaki, you know I must go." Kyouya tried to sound firm, but mostly sounded weary. The pain that lanced over the other's expression was almost enough for him to spill his secrets, but he knew he had to be strong while the opportunity to do so remained. "What we had here was… different, and strange, and very much absurd, but it wasn't _bad_. I'll… I'll remember it, and treasure it, for as long as I live." _Which isn't that long_, he thought bitterly. "But you must let me go."

"Well…" Tamaki said suddenly, an idea striking him and an almost amazed expression forming on his face. "I'll just go with you, then! Think about it, Kyouya! I could say I was going for my family too, for foreign business affairs and we could still be together— "

"No means _no_, Tamaki-kun." Kyouya said almost harshly, fear bubbling up in his stomach at the very thought. Of course the brunette wasn't going to America! It was all just a ruse, to make it seem as if he was fine and happy and that everything was the way it should be. He couldn't let on that he was dying of some foreign disease caught on a vacation to Brazil. Or that he had maybe five months left. "Sometimes _friendship,_" he spat out the word as if it was dirty, "isn't enough. I will not have my past following after me into my new life. Stay here. If I find out you followed me…" He left the threat there, unspoken and very, very real.

Before he stormed away, he saw Tamaki's face fall like his words were a javelin had been thrown into his heart. That last look at his once-best-friend's face would stay tattooed on his heart until the day he died, he was quite sure of it.

* * *

Days passed. Four, to be exact. Four days, sixteen hours, thirty-nine minutes, and eight seconds to be _precise_. And Kyouya was all about precision now; when one only has to count seven months, it's better to be right on the money all the time. Who knew how much longer he had?

It was on this, the fourth day of leaving Ouran, that he realized how very much his life was going to change and how quickly it was going to fade.

"What do you _mean_, an in-home nurse?" He demanded, putting his laptop aside as the family doctor tried to reason with him. Sitting up in bed, with pillows propped up behind his back and blankets pulled up to his waist (the chill had set in around ten AM), he looked the image of a young aristocrat suffering from a mild cold. A very pissed-off, highly irate young aristocrat who's sole purpose in life was to snap at those trying to help him. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Hibiki-san(1), I don't see why this is needed—"

"Kyouya-san, I'm sorry, but your father requested that you have an in-home nurse, in case things got bad during the middle of the night, or you needed something like morphine for when the pain sets in." Doctor Hibiki shuffled his papers around, putting them in his dark leather suitcase and shutting the lid with a loud _snap_. "I apologize, but you have been overridden. She should show up around noon. Treat her kindly, because this is her first job like this." Kyouya wanted to shout out indignations at that; they were giving him a _newbie nurse_ to take care of him? Damn it, if he was going to have to go through this indignity, he at least wanted it to be an experienced person.

But before he could voice out these thoughts, the doctor exited the room with swish and whirl of his white scrubs.

So, Kyouya sat and Kyouya waited, filling up his time with figuring out the Host Club's earnings for the past year. Each time he clicked on a file of a certain theme, or a gimmick that the rest of them had performed, an image of his friends (_my family,_ he amended) would appear in his mind, always smiling and laughing. It was a burning loneliness he felt, and with every moment, he wished deeply that he could recover, could get better and live his life and share adventures with the Host Club, Ouran's finest and brightest shining stars in the entire school.

"Hello?"

A knock at the door shocked the once-Ootori heir out of his reverie, making him turn his eyes to the doorway. Standing in the entrance was a young woman of her late twenties, a waterfall of straight black hair cascading gently down her back. There were gray streaks already forming, making her features seem possibly older. No-nonsense, sharp blue eyes swept across the room as she stepped in. _**Blink, blink.**_ _They sent a _foreigner_ to care for me?_ Kyouya thought incredulously, taking in the girl's (very Italian) features. Her brows were dark and heavy, framing two eyes set widely apart.

"Hello!" She said suddenly, opening the door wider to admit her (rather large) self. She resembled a mother, not a nurse. "Pardon my Japanese, it's not the best yet." Laughing, she walked forward and stopped next to his bed. "I told a man on the plane yesterday that my I had a _love_(2) room instead of a _blue_ room, back home." The woman laughed again, her voice rich and tainted with a British accent. "He asked for my number, sadly. Seemed to think I was serious." Rolling her eyes and smiling, she offered her hand towards the quiet brunette. "The name's Kara Mondragon, but Kara should do just fine. Oh, but I'm supposed to introduce my last name first, huh?"

"No, that is fine as well." Kyouya said politely, reaching and gripping her right hand in a loose hold. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kara-san. I am Ootori Kyouya, but I suppose you must already know that." Sensing the bitter edge in those words, Kara(3) seemed to just decide to drop it and smiled. "I hope I'm not prying, but where have you traveled from? Was your flight well?"

"My flight was amazing; much better than my flight to America, at any rate." Kara rolled her eyes, as if to say _Americans_(4), before continuing, "I'm from London and I left a few days ago to come here. I was given a day before work started, so I've been sight-seeing and such. I'll admit it; I'm one of those crazy tourist types who is absolutely _fascinated_ with Japanese culture." Her eyes crinkled, crow's feet and laugh lines appearing when she smiled. Kyouya couldn't help but smile back, even just a tiny bit.

"Well, I certainly won't be bored, then, with you here." He replied.

So, after setting the ground rules and meeting each other, Kara got right to work, checking his temperature and clucking in a disapproving manner when it was too high. In fact, she seemed to make that particular clucking noise a lot, when she was particularly annoyed with her personal equipment or not satisfied with how he was doing. "Well, Kyouya-san, I don't think you'll be needing bedside assistance for another month or two, so I'll leave you be for a while." Looking pointedly at the laptop sitting next to his arm, she added, "I seem to have disrupted some work."

"I won't be needing assistance, no," Kyouya affirmed, moving his laptop back to his lap, where it sat on top of his thighs. "But I could give you a few places to sight-see, and a free ride in the Aston Martin." Looking up, he saw the sheer, exuberant joy in her eyes.

"An Aston Martin? Wow! Really?" A dreamy expression crossed her face. "A car like that is almost sex on wheels."

"Um… yes, well…" Kyouya coughed, trying desperately not to laugh. Only fifteen minutes into the job and she was already proving a very interesting companion. "Please try not to talk to strangers. A random stranger on a plane can be deflected easily; a sleazy businessman on the street will want to be shown this 'love' room." Smirking and letting the light glint deviously off of his glasses, he added, "And he will be much more adamant about it." Kara chuckled, but was otherwise cut off when a boisterous voice echoed around the house, yelling, "KYOUYA!!" at the top of its lungs.

Kyouya's face drained of all color.

"Oh no," He mumbled, burying his face in his hands. "That idiot _came_ to my _house_ and is going to _try_ to talk 'sense' into me." Looking up, he gave the in-home nurse the fiercest glare imaginable and said, "Pretend this is a family check-up. Do not let him know why you are here. If he finds out…" Shuddering, he changed his words and said, "You don't want to know what will happen, if he finds out."

"But—" Kara looked like she wanted to walk away from the room as fast as she could, but curiosity also held her where she stood, obstinacy seeming to root her to the spot. "Is this 'he' your friend?"

"Only when I feel well enough for him to be." Kyouya grumbled, making a shooing motion with his hand. "Get out of here or he'll start answering questions." Moving to obey, Kara opened the door just a second too late. A blonde monstrosity flew into the room, knocking her on her behind. Surprised and winded, she started saying a stream of curses in English, stopping Tamaki in his tracks. '_I'm here for twenty minutes and already a bloody pouf decides to push me down! Well you bloody well damn know I'm going to fucking stand for it, and—_"

"Oh, miss, I am so sorry!" Tamaki exclaimed, a broadening sweep of his arms helping him to lift her to her feet again. "Believe me, my dear, I only used such haste and force because my dear friend requires my attention so deeply." Smiling that heart-breaking smile of his, he grabbed her hands and held himself close to her. "Surely, beautiful Princess of the West, you can understand this?"

Kara looked like she was trying very, _very_ hard not to laugh. "N-no, it's fine, really, I'm—" She choked back a cackle. "I'm perfectly well. I'll just… I have to go." And before she could ruin the Host King's grand speech by roaring with mirth, she disappeared hastily, giggling under her hand and blushing. She was mumbling in English, _Oh Lord, if my husband could see me now… Handsome Japanese boys flirting with me, and only on my first day! Everyone will be so jealous when I come back home…_

Left in her wake: silence, deadening, hot and thick like a summer's day in July. It clung to them like sweat, making both long for a break in the quiet. Kyouya shattered it first, instantly feeling a bit cooler by clearing his throat.

"What are you doing here, Tamaki-kun?" He asked coolly, his composure perfectly in place today. No tears to mar his lie, no weariness showing in his expression. Nothing strange about the situation at all, really. _Perfectly in control_, he thought in disgust, hating the lying he was forced to commit to, for the sake of his friends' sanity. "Surely you did not come here with the sole purpose of 'talking me out of it.'" Seeing his guess was correct, he scoffed a little. "You know me better than _that_, Tamaki-kun. I am rather dead-set on going and there is simply nothing you can do to stop me." _Dead-set. Literally…_

"Can't we talk about it?" Tamaki said, pleading as he crossed the room to sit beside his best friend. "I wouldn't mind going with you, Mommy, you know I wouldn't." But there was sacrifice in his eyes at that statement, so Kyouya knew that even if he really _was_ leaving for America, he still wouldn't let the idiot follow after him like a puppy. Tamaki would be miserable, leaving his friends behind like that.

"Why are you even here, Tamaki-kun?" Kyouya demanded, knowing that (yet again) he would be hurting the other's feelings, and trying not to feel too bad about it. _It's for the greater good, after all._ "Have I not made it very clear that you are no longer welcome in my presence?" The way Tamaki's face crumbled at that was catastrophic and instantly, Kyouya wanted to take it back. It was almost instantaneous; the need to retract that hurtful sentence, the want to get better as soon as possible so none of this was needed. Watching the blonde's expression collapse and fold in on itself like that was painful for him, too.

"But… But I thought—" Tamaki stopped, eyes filling with tears. "I thought we were friends, Kyouya." He said, his voice very small and eyes begging for a misunderstanding. A sudden loss of the Japanese language, perhaps, so maybe what Kyouya saying wasn't nearly so awful as what he expected.

"Yes, well… You thought wrong." It even sounded false to his own ears. How would Tamaki ever buy the lie, when the truth was so blatantly obvious? So it hurt, just a little, when those tears spilled over and ran in little rivulets down the blonde's cheeks. "_But you thought exactly right_." Kyouya imagined himself saying, and then quickly squashed that image. This was surely better for both of them…

Right?

"I don't believe you." Tamaki tried to say bravely, but his lip wobbled too much and his eyes were too over-bright for it to be true. So Kyouya did the cruelest thing he could possibly do in that moment. It didn't make sense, not even to him, why that action seemed to be the only course to go. In fact, it would only hurt them both _more_, in the end. But seeing Tamaki try _so hard_ to cling to their friendship, to hold onto what would never be again, broke something inside of the brunette, forcing him to face facts that he had known for the past four years.

_I'm in love with you._

Leaning forward, he yanked the other boy closer by his tie and crushed his mouth to the other's in a bruising, forceful kiss.

* * *

A/N: -jaw drop- I can not believe I got that out without... Iono, _squee-ing_?!

(1) Hibiki - The name "Hibiki", in Japanese, means _Echo; sound_. I admit this was a long-shot, but Dr. Hibiki was supposed to be an "echo" of what Kyouya's life could have been, if the disease hadn't struck.

(2) Love room vs. Blue room - Love, in Japanese, is _ai_, while blue is _ao_. For someone who isn't quite good at Japanese, I think it would be an easy mistake to make, yes? -laughs- Just trying to be clever and probably failing miserably.

(3) Kara - Kara means "friend" or "dear" in Italian -shifty eyes- I tried to use symbolism and it failed, alright?!

(4) _Americans_ - Just a little shout-out to my cool Canadian friends xD We all agree that America pretty much _sucks_. Looking forward to free health care when I go to college next year. -laughs-

Please send me some love, ne? ;D


	3. Part 3: Simple and Clean

Posted first on the paternal site, and now here! And I didn't coin the term "paternal site", it was one of my awesome reviewers (I'm too lazy to go check in my e-mail/review pages to see who it was, so I'm sorry, person-who-came-up-with-it! It's been a long day!)

Chapter title from KINGDOM HEARTS! AKUROKU: MY OTP IN THAT FANDOM. Just like Harry/Draco is my OTP for Harry Potter and TamaKyou is my OTP for this fandom -hearts- "Simple and Clean" most likely belongs to Disney, so... go complain to them about music rights, ne? -more hearts-

So, without any more rambling, here is chapter three of "Please Wake Up"!

* * *

Tamaki could not breathe.

For a moment, he was completely clueless as to why not. For one brief second of eternity, he thought his best friend no longer cared. And that eternity was what made him so very slow to respond. It took half a second to figure out why, _exactly_, air was not coming through his mouth. It took another half of a second to realize that it was _Kyouya's_ mouth that was the problem, and a full second after _that_ dedicated to wondering if the Shadow King had possibly planned this, or if it was completely spontaneous.

Then, of course, instinct kicked in and he leaned into the brunette's advances shyly, hesitantly, letting all control remain with the other teen. It wasn't the most _pleasant_ first kiss he could have experienced (the tears tickled a little and made everything seem sort of soggy), but it was certainly very _warm_. Hot, even. Before he could reflect further on the merits of a first kiss gone awry, he was yanked closer, falling onto the bed and squeaking at the fact that he was now half-way lying on top of the Ootori heir.

Kyouya broke away first and blonde lashes flicked upward (when had he even closed his eyes?) to look at that smoldering heat in those tiger-eye orbs for a moment before he was pulled forward again. This kiss was sweeter, gentler; An apology. Eyelids flickered down again and he sighed into the embrace, letting his hands rest on opposite sides of the brunette. _Kyouya tastes like oranges_, he thought giddily, having very little room in his head for anything else. Finally, lack of oxygen and the uncomfortableness of his position made him back away, slowly, to show that there was no rejection in the action. Two bright velvet eyes were open wide, staring at him as if he had grown two heads.

Which, in Kyouya's case, was probably _exactly_ what he was thinking, seeing as his glasses had slipped down to the bridge of his nose. The thought (and the other's completely adorable "confused face") was so comical that Tamaki had to control his expression and hold down the sudden burst of giggles. For a moment, they just stared into each other's eyes, taking in minute changes in their expression, making sure that nothing had changed.

_But that's not right. Everything has changed._

It was Kyouya who came up with it first, but he could see the idea forming on the blonde's face. Before the King could open his mouth to question, though, he found himself crushed in a hug. Shifting to a more comfortable position (and managing to lie more fully on top of his best friend, in the process), he wrapped his arms around the brunette's stomach, feeling the shivering in the other's body for the first time. Tamaki frowned; Kyouya _never_ got sick.

The first of three light bulbs flickered on in his head.

"Tamaki-kun, I…" Kyouya tried to say the words, to express what he was feeling without revealing anything about his new and secret life. But nothing spilled from his mouth; no fountain of apologies, no harsh, vehement statements; no, the silence had returned.

"Please tell me what's going on, Kyouya-kun…" Tamaki murmured, burrowing into the other's body and trying to offer as much body heat as he could. Part of him wanted to get up and leave, because more pain was surely on its way. But the other part of him, the selfish and needy part, demanded that he stay there for just a few more minutes, because being with Kyouya like this was a _hell_ of a lot better than not being with Kyouya at all. Or being with Kyouya, but having things be too strictly formal and/or best friend-ish. "I know something's wrong." Looking up through those pretty blonde eyelashes of his and giving the most adorable puppy dog expression he could, he added, "_Please_?"

Kyouya groaned, internally.

If the situation hadn't been so dire, he would have given in right away to the power of those bright amethyst eyes. He would have spilled out his heart and ranted and raved and been all-around un-Kyouya-ish. He was already weak-willed, because the rejection he had been expecting had never come and had, in fact, become acceptance. So his response was a lot less harsh (and a lot more questioning) than what it might have been, before. "Nothing is wrong besides you constantly nagging me to tell you something that does not exist." A very undignified snort was his answer.

"No, Daddy can always tell when Mommy is up to something or plotting or hiding secrets from him." Smiling, he adjusted himself until they were nose-to-nose, planting his hands on the headboard to keep steady. "You know you can trust me, whatever it is." It was a challenge, that much Kyouya figured out. But it was also an offering, something that he perhaps shouldn't pass up. But he'd already clung to the lie and had to stick with it—"I know you didn't _really_ want me to leave early." Tamaki declared, shifting forward a little more until he was practically (and very unintentionally) straddling Kyouya's lap. "Because if Mommy no longer liked Daddy anymore, she would have already called in security."

Before Kyouya could even _begin_ to argue with this flawed logic (only flawed because the blonde was right, damn it), he was drawn into another kiss, this time relinquishing all control he had. It was a big thing, for him, to let the other have complete responsibility, to decide how far to go; _he_ was normally that person, after all, not the other way around.

"I am _not_ a she." Was his only (very non-sensical) answer when Tamaki pulled back a few seconds later. For a moment, he kept the serious expression on his face and tried in vain not to let any other emotion show. Tamaki broke first, laughing so brightly and enthusiastically that Kyouya had to join in with first a smirk, than a full-blown smile. He couldn't help it; the blonde was like a drug that took all the sickness away.

"Aw, but Mommy looks so _pretty_ in dresses." Tamaki joked, trying to pout and failing, badly. This brought out a low chuckle from the brunette, before things turned very serious, very fast. All expressions of laughter and joy died as reality set back in. A reality that neither of them wanted to face, when things were so relaxed now between them. "Kyouya-kun, you aren't _really_ planning on going to America, are you? Without any of us?"

"No, Tamaki-kun, I am very much moving to America. None of you can follow, where I am going." And the sarcastic, witty part of his brain added, _Isn't that fan-fucking-tastic? Death is the only thing that could tear us all apart and even then, it can't keep you away._ "There is no way to talk me out of it. It is for the good of my company, and for my father." Kyouya looked away abruptly, trying not to fully rant about the _greater good_ which he was beginning to hate so much. "Tamaki-kun, you can try all you want, but I will _not_ be budged on this."

"So… Kyouya-kun really doesn't care about the Host Club anymore?" Tamaki's eyes were sad, almost the same as when he was remembering the mother he had lost. It made Kyouya unhappy to know that this poor teen's life had been dictated by a vengeful old woman. He could only hope that someone gave that hag what-for, when he was gone. As it was, he was going to give her a call—

A strange sensation happened then; it felt as if Kyouya's throat was being constricted by insistent hands, but he hurriedly waved it off. Then it happened again and again and he realized, with a choking gasp, that his body was betraying him in this, one of the most important moments of his short life. Hurriedly, he pressed the panic button now embedded in his laptop again and again. There was a two-second time span where they were completely alone. Tamaki watched his best friend struggle to breathe and felt more than scared; no, Tamaki was completely _terrified_. Horrified, because what if his words had triggered this reaction? _Is this all _my _fault?_ Scrambling back, he was just in time for Kara and two other nurses to rush in and place an oxygen mask over Kyouya's weakly struggling form.

Tamaki knew that he would take that image to his grave: Kyouya flailing as he tried to breathe in air and failing horribly, while three complete strangers tried to save him from an early demise.

* * *

Tamaki was waiting nervously outside the room. Someone (a maid, he's sure) ushered him out and told him that if Kyouya was ok soon (_if_, not _when_, he thought panickedly) then he could go back in. But only if he was asked for. So when nothing came from behind the door for a while, and the nurses left (he was pretty sure they were nurses, although not positive), he was quite hurt. So, to pass the time, he tortured himself with the thought that _he_ was to blame for this strange occurrence. That _his_ words had been the trigger for such an extreme reaction.

He grew more frantic every second. Should he rush in there, all grand apologies and wild gestures? Should he just come back another day, or not at all? And what did that kiss mean, earlier? Not that he minded it at all; it seemed a natural progression of their friendship. But Tamaki was not one for "friends with benefits" and if that's what the Shadow King wanted, he wasn't sure he could oblige, even if it meant losing his best friend.

"Tamaki?"

Relief flooded the blond at the sound of his name and, conversely, fear. There was hesitancy in that voice. As if Kyouya did not want him to come in, but was resigned to the fact that he would have to anyway. Still, Tamaki had to make sure that his best friend was ok. Moving stiff limbs (he had been resting against the wall for a long time now), he strode forward and very carefully opened the door. A sharp breath lodged in his throat and he had to choke back a yell of protest.

Kyouya was hooked up to an IV, looking very frail and tired. A faint beeping sound echoed around his bed, probably monitoring his heart beat and blood pressure. All in all, though, the brunette _seemed_ fine. Tamaki took a step into the room, not sure if he wanted to face this, because something told him that life would never go be the same once he fully entered. The Shadow King seemed to sense this feeling inside of him and looked up with bleary eyes, his glasses having fallen off in the initial struggle and he, too weak to pick them up.

The second of three light bulbs shuddered and lit up brightly.

"Tamaki-kun, I would not think badly of you at all if you left right now." He said softly, not sounding like his normal self at all. His voice was gravelly and his breath came in soft, short pants. Everything about him _screamed_ "I'm fragile, I'm breakable, I'm weary." Tamaki took a few stuttering steps forward into the room, determined to do this one thing for his best friend, even if it all turned upside-down for him later. The fact that Kyouya did not fight back against this one action was the last light bulb flickering on in his head.

"Kyouya-kun, something is wrong. And it is _not_ about America." Tamaki said, confidently, because he always saw straight through the brunette. Only recent events had fogged up his normal perception of Kyouya. A sigh escaped the other's body and he seemed to slump farther down into the covers. Tamaki had hit the nail on the figurative head.

"How much do you want to know?" The brunette said, seemingly to the covers. A hand came into his vision then, slowly tilting his face up by the chin and he blinked owlishly at the other, dark circles under his eyes magnified by the lenses he was wearing. For a moment, he just stared at those pretty amethyst eyes, before a kiss was planted solidly on his mouth. It was chaste and Tamaki pulled away soon after, looking determined.

"Everything you're willing to tell me, Kyouya-kun." He said firmly, trying to be brave again. But his hands were shaking. Sometimes, the Shadow King wondered how much the blonde sensed intuitively, because he could see his own thoughts reflected in those swirling pools: _this is bad_.

"All right. Everything it is."

And so he began to talk. He explained about what had happened to him; it was some strange South American disease. "Winter disease," he liked to call it, smiling wryly. It had asthmatic and flu-like symptoms and, as of now, there was no cure. As it progressed, he would slowly lose the use of his legs and any excess fat he might possibly have in his body would be flushed out, leaving him thin and skeletal-looking. By the end, he would be breathing through a tube and, if he was lucky, he would die in his sleep. But if he wasn't lucky…

That was when Tamaki stopped him. Or, more like the tears in those bright amethyst eyes stopped him from continuing. For a moment, they looked at each other, various degrees of "miserable" written on their faces. A river seemed to be constantly pouring down Tamaki's cheeks and, hesitantly, Kyouya reached forward and brushed away some of them, keeping his hand on the flushed, cool skin. He wanted to say, _don't cry, everything will be ok, I promise._ But he knew that it wasn't true. He knew he couldn't say something like that, only to break his promise so soon after.

"Y-you're… you're dying?" Tamaki whispered, looking like he was trying to understand this unfathomable fact and failing. "You're leaving me, us?" Quickly, he snatched the hand on his face away and crushed it in his digits, as if clinging hard enough would keep Kyouya around longer. There was something unbelievable about this, a dream-like quality that held Tamaki's "overreact genes" in check. Just barely.

Kyouya didn't know how to respond to that. So instead, he leaned forward the rest of the way. Let his emotions, his thoughts, his fears, pour into a kiss that was as searing as the first. Tamaki grabbed fistfuls of the brunette's shirt in his shaking hands, pressing himself as tight against the other as he could. _Yes_, Kyouya said through this kiss; this bruising, blistering, melting meeting of lips was a way to say, _I'm dying, yes, I am, yes, yes, I'm sorry, yes._ And in response, the blonde responded with a pained, _no, you can't be, you can't leave me, don't, no._

Finally, needing air (and having run short on it recently), Kyouya broke away with a deep gasp. The shockwave of air rattling into his lungs was nice, letting him know that today's minor attack was over. But Tamaki backed away quickly, eyes wide, teardrops clinging to soft blonde eyelashes. "I'm sorry, I didn't—I didn't want to make you, you, you…" Taking a quick breath to stop the stuttering, he finished, "sick again… Because i-it was my fault last time and I am _so_ sorry, Kaa-san, really, I am, and—"He couldn't finish, because a loud gust of laughter burst from Kyouya's chest like a thunder burst. Before Tamaki could possibly be offended, the brunette pulled him closer and, still chuckling, rested his weary head against the other's shoulder.

"Honestly, Tou-san," he said teasingly, trying to make things light and effortless between them again, "I tell you I have asthmatic symptoms and you believe it's _your_ fault." It was just so… _Tamaki_, and it made him feel like things weren't changing _too_ drastically.

No, his life was no longer normal (had it ever been?) But some things seemed to remain the same. Tilting the other's chin up again, he pressed his lips softly to the others, trying hard not to smile. Bewildered, Tamaki returned the affection for a quick moment before backing away again. There was no trace of a smile on his face. Kyouya sobered up quickly, because he knew how hard this must be for the other.

"Kyouya, I—I have to think about this." Tamaki said, his voice dipping between two different octaves as he tried to say something without the words shuddering to a halt in the air between them. For a moment, there was silence. Then, quickly putting his "cold Ootori bastard" mask in place, Kyouya nodded, keeping his face emotionless. There was a faint pulse of pain that echoed the other's works. He didn't want the blonde to see that he was _hurt_, of all the strange things.

"If you feel you have to." He said coolly, resting his hands lightly in his lap. Already, the absence of Tamaki's distraction was pounding a hole through a massive headache. Tamaki gave him a pained look. But before the Suoh heir could say anything, Kyouya broke in with, "You can _not_ tell anyone else about this. Not your father, not your dog, and most _definitely_ not the Host Club." Fierceness came back into his features for a moment before trickling away. And it was in that moment that Tamaki realized how deeply this disease had taken over the other's body.

Kyouya was too tired to even stay angry.

* * *

A/N: Alright, there you go xD The next chapter! -sparkles- I hope you're enjoying it so far! Send in your plot ideas and I'll see what I can do for it, since I'm not quite sure what exactly to write next. -laughs-


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